Painted-From-Words

Rachmaninoff Throughout the long, long night Of October 28 The sky was dark with clouds Like inky emissions from a giant squid Covering the world like a shroud Far away in the wooded grove With only the light of the moon above There rang the base chords of a song From the works of Rachmaninoff As it played, the moon glowed Then lightning cracked Thunder boomed And in an instant, all was gone Gone Who would know what hand Had played those chords?

I like to sit outside and watch the wind pluck the snow from the ground to adorn the trees. I enjoy the sharp burst of burning cold as flurries sneak past my scarves and slap my neck, as if to say "I'm here," a greeting from the heavens. I love to sketch the sharp contrast of shorn branches reclothed in snow and ice and the weaker lines of light that illuminate them in the sky, I love the play of glistening snow and shadow that dance across the trees and snow and sky. I wish I lived further north where the aurora borealis paint the skies in ghostly green blue strokes of impermanent ink. I wish I could transpose the wind's aria so a sembl

For twenty two years she had looked at herself the same way every time she stood in front of the mirrors placed around her apartment. The one in the bathroom, the hallway and she had even hung a smaller one over the black bureau in her bedroom. Why? She hated mirrors and anything that caused her to see her body, so why did she have so many mirrors that she was forced to pass everyday? It made no sense. Even thought she hate it she always, uncontrollably, threw an eye at the reflecting glass every time she passed them. And every day she hated it. But she never took them down. As she aged her thoughts of herself worsened as her body did the

A Shattered Realms story Fort Barviel - Zradian army training camp - Duchy of Zrada "Blood Week is a yearly requirement. Bonded Pairs are stripped of their partners and undergo five days of solid, continuous training while suffering both food and sleep deprivation. They are tested physically, mentally, and morally, relying on each other, not their bond-partners, to overcome the challenges and obstacles they will endure. We do this to hold ourselves accountable, to ensure that the Order's strict standards are adhered too, and to further strengthen the trust between the public and the Order." - Julia Hart, Master of Riders The dawn of a chil

Silence crept through the ballroom, with a slight breeze creeping past the wooden doors. The dim lights sparked on, making the soft walls glimmer. Her footsteps echoed through the room.    A smile shimmered across her face. She glanced down at the silver high heels on her feet, with straps spiraling up her legs. Her fingertips touched the edge of her silver dress. She took a step forward.    The room lit up as her imagination took control. She pictured her family and friends walking around the room with their eyes glued on her. The prettiest girl in the room.    Standing in the middle of the room, her eyes caught a glimpse of what she w

Thanksgiving The Pilgrims landed on the North American shore, After days of travel by sea. They set their feet upon the earth, And then they began to build their homes. History records that they were kind; They did not slaughter red-skinned men. Yet they sat down to a picnic Of wild turkey meat. Has anyone ever thought before, How might the 25th of November be done Without a turkey to feast upon? Well! perhaps they'd a;ll be vegetarians.. Or perhaps they'd search the nearby wood For a chicken or a wild boar.

Auf der Suche nach den Kristallcuwees „Hui!“, rief Flair. „Woohoo!“, meinte Fluffle. „Yeah!“, fügte Rumble hinzu. Die Cuwees hatten viel Spaß auf der Spielzeug-Rennstrecke von Violetts großem Bruder Limon. Jumpy war an der Reihe. „Du schaffst es, Jumpy! Woohoo!“, feuerte Rumble sie an.   Sie hielt sich gut fest und schon ging es los. „Gleich kommt der Looping!“, sprach Rumble gespannt. Und... Jumpy flog aus dem Looping und von der Strecke. Die anderen hüpften besorgt zu ihr. „Jumpy, geht es dir gut?“, wollte Flair wissen. „Lasst uns das gle

Find your common ground of shedding blood In the far lands of Else Where, For here is not the place where bodies should Fall just short of their own sweat and tears. It is fear that is the beast you so portray, And an agenda so immorally laced with false teachings. Here lies the home, once ancient and grown, Now rubble in the growing pile Of humanities excrement. Its epitaph shall read nothing, For no words can be written by the lack of knowledge per this land.... Look your land in its dying eyes, Listen to its final breaths... The billowing sands that blow Erosion into its elderly face. make your way to the place in which